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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23716054">if you're running away then i'm looking for you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/letslip/pseuds/letslip'>letslip</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Druck | SKAM (Germany)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, discussions of being trans but nothing negative, that ive split into chapters for ease of reading, this is literally a long fluffy fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:41:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23716054</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/letslip/pseuds/letslip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>it's amazing how much information you can get from a person by asking to borrow their Zippo lighter.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matteo Florenzi/David (Druck)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Druck Open Discord 1st Anniversary Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. mugs and kitchen cupboards</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivelapluto/gifts">vivelapluto</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from twenty miles by deer tick (I highly recommend listening to the song!)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bright yellow letters stand out against the red backdrop of the page. FRESHERS WEEK! Matteo unlocks his flat door and ignores the poster with a shake of his head.</p><p>He is very well aware, thank you, that it's freshers week. He doesn't need posters adorning every square inch of the university campus to scream it at him. This entire week is supposed to be for making friends, partying and getting accustomed to his new life at university, but he can't imagine anything worse. He has vivid memories of parties in high school, ones that Jonas would drag him to, where he would hide in dark, concealed corners. Jonas would always tell him how creepy Matteo's people-watching habit looked, but, to be fair, Jonas would think that. Matteo was more comfortable having Jonas in his direct line of sight and would move around the room as the curly-haired boy talked to a girl hanging off of his arm, or danced with her, or got drunk with her. He'd feel the familiar sting of jealousy as he showed interest towards anyone who wasn't Matteo.</p><p>Ah, the plights of today's gay youth.</p><p>It's needless to say that Matteo doesn't enjoy parties, only if the alcohol is free - and even then, that's hardly enough incentive for Matteo. The flashing lights, loud music, sweaty bodies packed in like sardines - no thanks, you can count Matteo out. It's not his scene. But he knows he won't make any friends if he doesn't at least attempt to socialise. </p><p>The poster is advertising a neon party and a pre-drinks event beforehand, happening in his building, for all the freshers. He knows he'll be fine at the pre-drinks event - a common room is hardly the place to have a rave, he thinks - but the neon party is what unsettles him. The whole sprayed-with-neon-paint is fine, he understands the appeal, but, again, the lights. The uncomfortable feeling of cold paint against his skin. The noise. The people.</p><p>He's broken out of his reverie by Jonas clattering his way into the flat, seeming to knock a plastic storage box of clothes into every available flat surface, and remembers that he should probably go inside. He steps in and sets the box down, surveying the contents of the flat. It's almost clinical in its cleanliness but in a homely, lived-in sort of way. It almost reminds him of his mother's room or an inpatient clinic. Not that he has experience with those, of course. </p><p>White walls, grey and white furniture, a few health and safety posters adorning the walls. Other than these select items, the flat is empty, and Matteo assumes he's the only one here. He picks his box up and tries to decide which bedroom is the most likely to be empty, when a girl with an elaborately wrapped pink hijab emerges from the room in the left-hand corner, snapping shut an Airpods case.</p><p>"Hi, I'm Amira. It's so lovely to meet you!" she smiles, radiating a comfortable warmth that Matteo has only experienced from his mother and Hans before, and it is slightly jarring.</p><p>He shakes himself mentally and smiles back. "Hi, I'm Matteo. This is Jonas, my best friend. He's studying here too." he gestures to Jonas, who sets down his box and extends his hand to shake Amira's. She shakes her head politely and takes a step back, further away from his extended hand. This doesn't faze Jonas, who simply smiles and nods in place of a handshake.</p><p>"Nice to meet you."</p><p>"I like that you went in for a handshake almost immediately," Amira observes. Matteo realises that she isn't upset, simply amused, and perhaps fucking with Jonas. Just a little. He can appreciate that.</p><p>"Well, I'll be studying international relations and politics, so I figure I need to practice soon."</p><p>"Awesome! My brother, Essam, wants to study international relations too. He's a year younger than me, though. He's just about to sit his Abi."</p><p>Matteo and Jonas groan simultaneously. "I do not miss the Abi one bit." Jonas declares. Amira and Matteo agree, and Amira laughs.</p><p>"Worst year of my life," Matteo sighs. If Amira looks worried, Matteo pretends not to notice. She shoots him a brilliant smile nonetheless, and Matteo figures she must know what he's talking about.</p><p>"Me too."</p><p>Amira asks what Matteo is studying, fidgeting with her long sleeve. "Computer science and gaming," he replies, smiling when Amira scrunches her face up in confusion. </p><p>"I didn't even know that was a course combination you could do."</p><p>"Yeah, neither did I. But that's why I'm here."</p><p>Matteo discovers that Amira is studying medicine; something he thinks very much suits her based on his first impression of her. She's insanely intelligent, in tune with both her and other people's emotions, brash and headstrong. She gives him a guided tour of the flat, lets him pick a room, and helps him and Jonas unpack and store his things. Once they help Jonas transport his boxes to his flat, contained three buildings to the left of theirs, they designate each flatmate a cupboard in the kitchen to store their food, along with a shelf in the fridge and the freezer, and a separate cupboard for any kitchen items that they didn't want to share. And then it was a waiting game as they anticipated the arrival of their final three flatmates.</p><p>During her tour, Amira had shown Matteo her cupboard, which was mostly empty, save for a couple of beautiful plates, bowls, glasses and mugs, which Amira's mother had given her to use during Ramadan, "for iftar and suhoor," she explains. Matteo remembers that these are the meals that begin and close the fast, and Amira lights up when she realises Matteo knows what she's talking about, and she doesn't have to constantly explain herself. Her cupboard also contains a silver dish, which Amira uses to perform wudu before she prays.</p><p>"Wudu?" Matteo asks. This is one he's never heard of.</p><p>"A ritual cleansing Muslims perform before prayer to ensure we are clean, physically and spiritually."</p><p>Matteo nods, completely intrigued by these customs that are so different to his own Catholic upbringing, traditions he hasn't stuck to for years, not since his dad moved to Italy and his mum got ill. Maybe he'd go back to his old customs eventually, now that she's getting better.</p><p>Matteo then shows Amira his cupboard, which is still as sentimental but much more novel. Omit.</p><p>"There are at least 15 novelty mugs in here," Amira notes, laughing as she pulls out a red tin mug in the shape of a bear.</p><p>"17, actually." Amira has pulled out Matteo's very favourite mug, one his mother had gifted him when he'd passed his Abi retake. She coos over the design, turning it carefully in her hands.</p><p>"Where do you get these from, anyway?"</p><p>"Some are gifts, like the one you're holding," he explains the story behind the red tin bear. "The others I've bought myself." He pulls out a green frog mug, smiling. "I got this one from my boss after I had worked a year at the charity shop I work at." </p><p>He puts it back and grabs another one. It's a massive mug in the shape of a rainbow - virtually impossible to drink anything except water out of, unless you want to try and drink a gallon of scalding hot tea out of it. It's not worth it; he's tried beforehand and every time he does, it's stone-cold by the time he reaches the halfway point. "And this was a gift from Jonas after I came out to him."</p><p>"So these are special to you?"</p><p>"Very," he smiles, placing the two carefully back into the cupboard. Amira places the red bear back where she found it.</p><p>"I love charity shops," Amira states, wistfully. "You find so many great things there."</p><p>Matteo smiles, and Amira closes the cupboard door. It's a very minute gesture, nothing worth reading into, but Matteo thinks he's struck gold with Amira. He hopes his other flatmates will be as great as she is.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. zippo lighters and septum piercings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sharing a flat with some of the best people in the world has its perks. For example, there’s always someone to lament to about the most beautiful boy you’ve ever laid eyes on, Matteo thinks. </p><p>(Matteo meets the rest of his flatmates. And also someone new.)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Matteo's hopes prove to be right when he meets the rest of his flatmates a few hours later. By this point, Amira and Matteo have retired to their respective rooms - Amira to make a call, and Matteo to make his bed. The three arrive at the same time, two boys and a girl, all hauling storage boxes.</p><p>The ginger-haired girl steps forward first, and Matteo vaguely recognises her. And then it hits him. Hang on a fucking second, he thinks.</p><p>"Matteo Florenzi," she laughs, pulling him into a hug in the kitchen.</p><p>"Hanna Jung, I have missed you."</p><p>"Me too," she whispers. They embrace in the kitchen for a few more seconds as the remaining two flatmates - Carlos and Abdi - introduce themselves to Amira. Matteo hadn't spoken to Hanna since the whole situation with her and Jonas, and it's nice to know she doesn't care about it anymore. He'd venture as far to say she forgives him. He hadn't done what he did to her out of loyalty to his best friend, because Hanna was also his best friend, but out of pure selfishness. But whatever. He's not in that headspace anymore, and it seems like neither is Hanna, so he won't let himself dwell on it anymore. He just hopes Jonas has also processed the event and moved on.</p><p>When they eventually let go of each other, a boy with kind eyes holds out his hand In greeting. "Na?" he asks, as Matteo shakes his hand. "I'm Carlos, this is Abdi." he hesitates, turning to Abdi, who nods. "Uh, we're together, so..." he trails off. "I hope that isn't a problem?"</p><p>Bless him, Matteo thinks. He looks so nervous. Matteo smiles and waves his head. The boys seem like genuinely kind people, and he'd hate to make them feel like they were a burden.</p><p>He'd hate to let them feel the way he is so accustomed to feeling.</p><p>"Not at all, man," he reassures. "This is the last place you'll receive any judgement from. I mean, I'm gay, so I'm legally not allowed to judge. Hanna couldn't even judge a prisoner on death row and Amira will beat anyone up who gets all hostile with you guys."</p><p>"Damn straight," she declares, holding up her fists in a boxer's stance and striking the air twice in quick succession.</p><p>"Well," Hanna smiles."I think we're going to get on like a house on fire."</p><p>"Careful, you'll jinx it," Abdi laughs.</p><p>Later, once everyone has settled in and had time to unpack and set up their rooms, the five new flatmates congregate in the sitting room. They've been discussing random things for almost three hours now, and in that time Matteo learns that Hanna is studying nursing and midwifery, Carlos is studying psychology and sports science, and Abdi is studying business management. He also learns that Hanna's original plan didn't involve university at all; in fact, she didn't know what her plan was beyond high school until three months before university applications were due when her guidance teacher gave her a leaflet for midwifery and nursing courses. </p><p>Carlos and Abdi had met in their very first year of high school and had been best friends for years, but hadn't actually pursued a relationship until after high school, because there was a lot going on. Carlos explains that, at the time, he'd had a girlfriend (who's also studying here - "Jesus Christ," Matteo remarks when he discovers this. "Everyone and their mother is studying here.") and she'd been struggling with an eating disorder, so on top of that, he still had to sit his Abi. He had failed it and had to resist, but he passed. Due to the stress of resitting, he had come up with the back-up plan of being a carpenter, something his girlfriend had hated the idea of because he thought he had wasted his potential. The strain of everything had caused them to break up, but it was amicable and they were still close friends. Carlos promises to introduce them to her. </p><p>"She's great, guys," Abdi says. Eventually, he brings up the fresher's neon party. "Is anyone actually going? I was going to, but neon is going to be a bitch to wash out, and laundry here is expensive as fuck. It should be a crime to charge so much."</p><p>"I know!" Hanna exclaims, surging forward. She is holding a cup of coffee, the contents of which threaten to spill everywhere with her sudden movement. She uprights herself quickly enough that the coffee stays contained. "This university is full of poor, starving students, and they charge 2,50€ for a wash? It's ridiculous!"</p><p>"And an extra 2,50€ to use the dryer!"</p><p>"Capitalism at its finest," Abdi concedes. Carlos fixes him with a confused stare but laughs.</p><p>"Babe, that's such a contradiction. You're studying business management!"</p><p>"I'm only doing that so I can eat and yeet the rich when I make my way up through the ranks." Abdi says this with a completely sincere look on his face, and Matteo struggles to contain a surprised laugh over the fact that Abdi had used 'yeet' seriously. </p><p>Amira throws the pillow resting on her knee towards Carlos and Abdi, shouting "this bitch empty. Yeet!" This sends everyone into raucous laughter, and they almost forget what they were discussing until Hanna brings it up again, once things calm down.</p><p>"Guys, seriously, we should go. It'll be fun!"</p><p>"I don't know," Amira says, soberly. "I don't drink and it would be all crowded and sweaty and gross. I might give it a miss. I'd have to leave early to pray anyway."</p><p>Everyone nods, understanding. Matteo chimes in with, "I'm with Amira."</p><p>She cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. "You have to pray too? Because you can borrow one of my prayer mats. I have a spare one." </p><p>Matteo laughs, shaking his head. "No, I just don't drink much. And I get, like, super overwhelmed in large crowds. But I'll go to the common room party anyways." Amira nods her agreement. "We could all go to that, and then Amira and I will chill here while you guys are away?" Everyone agrees that this is the most sensible option, and so that's what they decide to do. </p><p>When they arrive downstairs, the common room isn’t full yet, but there are a fair few people already there. Jonas waves Matteo over to his group, and Matteo assumes these are his flatmates. He’s sitting with three people who he introduces as Kiki, Mia and Stefan, who seem to have gotten a head-start on drinking. Mia and Kiki each have an empty shot glass sitting on the table in front of them, Jonas holds a bottle of beer, and Stefan is taking drags from a bottle of cider. Stefan offers to get the new guys a drink, and Carlos and Abdi tag along to help him - after Carlos greets Kiki and tells her it’s been too long. Matteo assumes this is the aforementioned ex-girlfriend. She seems healthy and happy, so Matteo assumes that she is in recovery, and is proud of this lovely girl he hasn’t yet spoken to for being so strong. While the others get their drinks - vodka and coke for Hanna, beers for Carlos and Abdi, lemonade for Matteo and Club Mate for Amira - Hanna, Matteo and Amira introduce themselves to those they don’t already know. Jonas even hugs Hanna and they end up sitting next to each other, so Matteo figures there’s no love lost between them, as ironic as that statement may be.</p><p>They chat mindlessly about anything that comes up - at one point, the conversation jumps from how the first Maze Runner film is the best and the others aren’t worth watching (“well, except for The Death Cure,” Hanna protests, “but that is fucking heartbreaking.” “Newt deserved better!” Mia cries, sending everyone into hysterics as they shout out similar sentiments) to whether Donald Trump is a lizard or not. Matteo has no idea how this shift in conversation happened as he zoned out for a second, and suddenly he heard Abdi shout “he’s a fucking lizard, okay?”, but he isn’t going to question it. He firmly agrees with Abdi on this.</p><p>He gazes around and realises that the common room is a lot fuller than he’d realised because he’d been so enraptured in conversation with his friends and then not being fully present, and he finds himself feeling slightly overwhelmed - it’s nothing too bad, yet, but he figures he should step outside before it does. Preventative measures, his therapist would say. Delaying the inevitable, Matteo thinks. But he excuses himself anyway, lighting a cigarette with his old battered Zippo lighter once he steps out of the massive sliding doors. He exhales the smoke and lets his head fall back onto the brick wall, flinching when a sharp stone presses into his skull, but he stares up at the moon and breathes. He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there before a silky smooth voice breaks him out of his daydreams about the man on the moon. </p><p>“Can I borrow your lighter?” </p><p>Matteo turns his head towards the voice and lays eyes on a boy with a glinting septum piercing and brown curls that spill slightly over his forehead, unlike Carlos’ curls, which are cropped close to his head. Jonas’ curls are just unruly. But this boy seems like he takes the time to style his curls, and they somehow still look effortlessly beautiful. Everything about this boy screams stunning. And then the boy smiles, and Matteo thinks he’d go to the ends of the earth just to make this boy smile. It startles him, that thought, and he fumbles for his lighter, dropping it and cursing. When he finally grabs the lighter and straightens to pass it to the curly-haired ethereal boy who seems to be enveloped in a halo of light - what the fuck, is that even possible? Matteo wonders - he is overtaken by a brief feeling of dizziness. Whether that’s from brushing his hand against the boy’s palm or because he straightened too quickly, he has no idea, but it’s like a shock to his core. If his breath hitches when his fingers graze the boy’s skin, well, that’s between him and the man on the moon. And also this very pretty boy, who definitely heard the audible hitch. Matteo curses inwardly but forces himself to raise his eyes to meet the boy for a second. He’s definitely checking Matteo out. His eyes drift down, and then back up, in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it movement, which makes Matteo laugh. He watches as the boy’s slender fingers deftly flick open a decorated tin which holds his cigarettes, self-rolled and unfiltered. Brave, Matteo thinks. He just smokes the generic cigarettes he can buy cheaply from the Späti. </p><p>“You don’t talk much, do you?” hot-guy-with-septum-piercing observes. His voice is something Matteo can’t quite place - it’s deep and warm, but not gravelly like you’d expect someone who smokes recreationally to have. His mother would probably describe it to have dulcet tones, whatever the fuck that means, but it suits him. </p><p>“Guess not,” Matteo smiles, taking a drag of his cigarette. The boy flicks open Matteo’s Zoppo lighter, raises the cigarette to his lips, lights it. Matteo is completely entranced by his movements as he flicks it closed and sets it flat on his palm, turning it and inspecting it, running a fingernail over the engravings on the metal casing. It’s battered due to a long time of use - the lighter has been a part of his family for years. He’s had to replace the lighter fluid and play around with the mechanisms of it a few times, and Matteo has toyed with the idea of replacing the lighter completely a few times, but he can’t seem to give it up, even if he has to flick the damn thing about ten times to light the cherry of the cigarette. This boy, however, seems to have no trouble with his lighter and manages to light it on the third or fourth flick.</p><p>“Your lighter is beautiful. Where did you find this? I assume you didn’t buy it.”</p><p>“No, I didn’t. My great-grandfather found it in the Bois Jacques.”</p><p>“He fought in the Battle of the Bulge?” the boy asks, and Matteo feels elated. Finally, someone who knows their stuff! “I don’t have you pegged for a Nazi kind of guy though,” he notes, laughing as he points out the FCK NZIS inscribed by Matteo on the side, handing it back.</p><p>“Yeah. How do you know about that?”</p><p>“I’m studying history and film studies, so I’ve watched a lot of war films in preparation.” Matteo feels slightly giddy. A hot guy with brains? That’s Matteo’s kryptonite. “How did you get this, then?”</p><p>Matteo pockets the lighter and begins to explain that it was his grandfather’s, but before that, it was his great-grandfather’s, who had fought in the Second World War and acquired it from a dead German soldier. Luckily, there’s no swastika or other Nazi insignia - other than the FCK NZIS - scratched onto the silver surface. Instead, it’s a single Edelweiss flower which must have been done by hand, because it’s shaky and amateur, but somewhat distinct. </p><p>“A sign of heroism,” the boy notes, blowing out a puff of smoke. </p><p>“Yeah, if you buy into that,” Matteo sighs. He takes a long drag and lets the smoke dance through the air as he exhales before he speaks again. “My great grandfather swiped this from a dead German when he fought in Bastogne. He was an American soldier.” He takes the lighter out of his pocket and fiddles with it again. A nervous habit.</p><p>“Surely the Edelweiss engraving would have faded years ago, though?”</p><p>“Yeah, it was almost gone when my dad gave me it. But I go over it every once in a while. I don’t want to lose the history of the lighter, I guess.”</p><p>The boy nods. “Makes sense. So, if your great grandfather was an American soldier, why did he move to Germany to have kids? He must have hated them.”</p><p>“His son did. I think it was an act of rebellion - my grandad’s like that. He was told he’d only have 2 years to live once he was diagnosed with lung cancer, but he’s been going strong for ten years now.”</p><p>“Amazing.”</p><p>“Yeah. He married a girl from Berlin - my grandmother - and then they had my mum, and my uncle, and my aunt. And now I’m here.”</p><p>“Who knew you could find out so much from a Zippo lighter?” the boy laughs, exhaling smoke. </p><p>“That’s just the kind of guy I am.”</p><p>Amira rounds the corner just as the hot guy opens his mouth to speak again. She sighs in relief once she spots Matteo. “You know those cancer sticks will kill you one day, right?”</p><p>“Yes, doctor.” Matteo smiles, mock-saluting her. “Did you need something?”</p><p>“Oh, no, it’s okay. I was just worried about you, you’ve been out here for almost an hour and a half.” Huh, Matteo thinks. Time flies fast when you’re having fun. “The others are going to the neon party now. Are you going?”</p><p>“No, I don’t think so. I’m just gonna finish this,” he waves his cigarette “and I’ll be upstairs soon.”</p><p>“Cool,” she smiles. “I’ll see you then.” And with that, she leaves. Matteo turns to apologise to the hot guy, maybe ask him his name, but he’s gone. Matteo feels a sudden disappointment that he isn’t used to feeling, and takes a few long drags of his cigarette. Was it something he said? Something he did? He mulls this over as he nears the end of his cigarette, stubs it out against the wall and chucks the stub into an ashtray conveniently placed at the entrance to the accommodation. He looks around for the boy outside, and then again in the common room, but he’s completely disappeared. </p><p>Matteo begins to wonder if he was really there at all.</p><p>He gives up waiting to see if the boy will return after five minutes and heads back to the flat.</p><p>“Yo,” Amira greets. She is sitting on the couch in the living room, scrolling through her phone. She must have taken off her hijab because the black hood of her hoodie is drawn up over her head, drawstrings pulled tight and tied into a knot under her neck. </p><p>Matteo hums in reply, flopping onto the couch. “Did you see that guy I was talking to before you came outside?”</p><p>“I did,” Amira smiles at him. “He’s cute. Did you get his number?”</p><p>Matteo’s arm falls across his eyes. “No!” he groans, turning his head to face Amira. “I didn’t even get his name, he disappeared before I could ask.”</p><p>“You’re telling me that you were out there for an hour and a half talking to this guy and you didn’t think to ask his name?”</p><p>“We were talking about Zippo lighters!” Matteo defends, sulking. This prompts a laugh from Amira.</p><p>“Is that how white people flirt? I hope white people don't flirt with me here. I couldn’t cope with it.”</p><p>They break into peels of laughter at this. </p><p>“It wasn’t even flirting, Amira, oh my god, it was terrible. I was probably a mess, he was so pretty. I don’t think I strung together any coherent sentences.” Amira listens and nods sympathetically as Matteo laments about the boy who was so pretty he felt dizzy around him. </p><p>“Aw, Matteo has a crush. My baby is growing up!” Amira teases. Matteo protests, reminding her that they’ve only known each other for not even 24 hours, but he knows he’d defend her with his life and knows Amira feels the same. Sharing a flat with some of the best people in the world has its perks. For example, there’s always someone to lament to about the most beautiful boy you’ve ever laid eyes on, Matteo thinks.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. the day after the neon party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>David and Matteo share a class together! What a convenient plot point!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day after the neon party, classes begin, and Matteo’s first class at the university is an introduction to history elective that he’s taking alongside his mandatory computer science and gaming modules. Most people in the lecture hall seem to be varying degrees of hungover, and for once he relishes in the fact that he might well be the most clear-headed person in the room. </p><p>That is until the door opens 5 minutes before the lecture is due to start, and a familiar face bounds down the steep steps happily, scanning the rows for a vacant seat. He locks eyes with Matteo, who has two vacant seats either side of him and starts to tiptoe over people’s bags and legs towards him. He does it in such a grace that makes Matteo smile because anyone else would have tripped over precariously placed bags or outstretched legs but this boy is completely unfazed, moving in such an agile way that would make ballerinas jealous. The boy returns Matteo’s smile and he feels giddy again, just like he did last night.</p><p>“Zippo lighter guy,” he greets, setting his bag down at his feet. His hood is pulled up over his head, and he shrugs it down, revealing his messy-yet-somehow-precise curls. Matteo has the sudden urge to reach over and stroke it, and so he digs his fingernails into his palms and shoves them in his pocket.</p><p>“Septum piercing dude,” Matteo has to suppress the urge to add “hot” at the start.</p><p>“Fancy seeing you here.”</p><p>“Well, I did tell you my whole family history over a Zippo lighter,” Matteo smiles, turning his attention to the front as the professor turns the massive screen on, displaying a PowerPoint entitled “Introduction to History Elective: World War Two”. Matteo crosses his legs and sets his notebook on the fold-out desk in front of him - his laptop hadn't charged overnight, so he was just going to have to put up with his chicken-scratch handwriting in the meantime. </p><p>It occurs to Matteo that he still doesn’t know the boy’s name, and he can’t keep calling him “hot septum piercing guy”, because one day he’s going to slip up and actually call the boy that to his face, and that would be mortifying. But as if a gift from the angels above (not that Matteo believes in all that), the professor begins to do a roll call.</p><p>“Just so I can get a bit more familiar with who I’m teaching,” she explains, fiddling with a silver necklace. “This is an elective, so while some of you will be studying history as your degree with me, some of you are here just to fulfil a timetable requirement, so I won’t see you much outside of this class.”</p><p>Matteo tries to guess the boy’s name as the roll call goes on. Michael? Chad? Is it some fancy name he’d have no idea how to pronounce? He’s so deep in thought that the professor has to call his name twice until he registers it.</p><p>“Matteo… Matteo Florenzi? Are you here?” She completely butchers his surname, but he doesn’t correct her, simply raises his hand and gives her an awkward smile when she nods at him in acknowledgement. </p><p>“I didn’t have you down as a Matteo. I thought you’d be called, like, John or something.” the boy whispers. </p><p>Matteo almost chokes on a sip of water. “John? What do you take me for?” he coughs and sets his water back down, turning to the boy. “You’re not very good at figuring people out,” he accuses but smiles to let the boy know he isn’t serious.</p><p>Just as the boy goes to reply, his attention turns to the professor once more, and he raises his hand. Matteo didn’t hear the name called out. </p><p>“Nice to meet you, David,” the professor says. David. David what? “I think you’re the only one studying history as your degree in the class, Mr. Schreibner. Thank you for joining us.” David Schreibner. It suits him.</p><p>Well, duh. That’s his name.</p><p>The professor switches the slide from the title slide to one called “Background”, and the students around him diligently copy this down and begin to summarise the paragraph of text on the screen, and Matteo realises he should probably do the same.</p><p>He scribbles down some words quickly and glances over at the boy - David, he reminds himself-  as the professor begins to discuss why there was the need for a Second World War. Matteo knows this shit. You learn it in primary school.</p><p>David is left-handed and has a very elegant style of handwriting. It swirls and loops across the page continuously, and Matteo wishes his handwriting wasn’t almost completely unintelligible. And then he wonders why he wishes that. What a weird thing to think about. He needs to get his head in the game, so he blinks, turns away, and zeroes in on what the professor is talking about (even if he could do this shit in his sleep).</p><p>The lecture ends at 10 am, having lasted an hour, and Matteo has no other obligations until 4 pm today when he has his first computing science class. He texts Amira to see if she’s free, and receives a message almost immediately telling him that they’re at the campus cafe - ‘they’ being herself, Hanna, Mia and Abdi. The others had classes, she tells him, or in Carlos’ case, a meeting with Student Support Services. Turns out the reason Carlos had failed his Abi first time round was due to an undiagnosed case of dyslexia, so Abdi had helped him to set up this appointment in order to get him the help he deserves. Carlos and Abdi were always helping people out, and Matteo finds he didn’t expect anything less of them. The first time Matteo had made a trip to the laundry facilities, even though Abdi completely opposed its “capitalist prices”, he had offered to help Matteo figure out how the machines worked because Matteo was clueless. Carlos had joined, his own clothes in a rucksack and Amira’s in a laundry bag slung over his other shoulder. </p><p>“So what’re your plans now?” David asks. Matteo turns his attention from trying to shove his notebook into his bag towards David, noting that David is once again staring at him. He’ll chalk that up as a win for Florenzi. </p><p>“No classes until 4, I’m practically a free man,” he smiles, laughing when David rolls his eyes and sulks.</p><p>“Ugh, I wish. I’ve got a film studies intro lecture in, like, an hour and then a mandatory history module at 3.”</p><p>“Sucks to suck, right?” Matteo teases, earning him a teasing glare. “I’m going to meet up with some friends at a cafe on campus now,” he pauses, breathes nervously and adds “if you want to join?”</p><p>“I’d love to, but I need to do some reading for that intro lecture. Who assigns readings on the first day?” Well, it was worth a try, he thinks. Matteo shrugs sympathetically, in a what-can-you-do kind of manner. “Psychopaths, Matteo. That’s who.” He laughs, and Matteo wants to spend all of his time with the boy who gets frustrated over mandatory readings and is left-handed and has a fascinating way of dragging information out of Matteo in a way that no one else, except perhaps his mother or Jonas, have managed to do. </p><p>David turns his phone on, checking the time quickly. “Right, I have to go. Here,” he says, pushing a piece of paper into Matteo’s hand. And with that, he’s gone. Matteo looks down at his hand, where David has pressed a piece of paper with his phone number and a drawing of Matteo’s Zippo lighter. He smiles, places the piece of paper into his phone case carefully, and joins the stream of students leaving the hall.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. getting in there</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>If there's one thing Matteo has learned over these past three weeks, it's that David is nothing if not predictable.</p>
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    <p>He finds the cafe Amira had told him about with minimal difficulty, and Mia waves him over with a bright smile. He nods to the group and points towards the counter, indicating he's going to buy a drink. He orders a chai because he's a bad Italian and hates coffee - sue him - and Amira managed to get him hooked on the shit. He loves it.</p><p>"Na?" Amira greets, catching sight of the label on the string of the teabag. She raises her own, similar teabag label and all, and clinks them together. "Twins."</p><p>"Has anyone heard from Carlos yet?" Mia asks, and Abdi sets his own cup down, stretching to shift it as it threatens to fall when he misjudges his placement.</p><p>"He's just left the Student Support building, he's on his way over. How was your class, Matteo?"</p><p>"Did you see the boy?" Amira asks, and Matteo shoots her a glare. He doesn't necessarily care that she's broadcasting his crush, because she hasn't named him - not that she knows his name - but what if David was in the cafe? He knows he's not, but he glances around quickly nonetheless. He's definitely not. Thank fuck.</p><p>Everyone turns to stare at him, chiming in with a chorus of "what boy?"</p><p>Matteo groans and closes his eyes, resting it on the back of the sofa. "Yes, I saw him."</p><p>Excitement erupts from their table, and Matteo shushes them. "He sat next to me today. His name is David, he's left-handed, and I got his number."</p><p>Abdi reaches across the table to fistbump Matteo, who returns it with a sheepish grin. "Look at you go! Day one and you're already getting in there!"</p><p>"Abdi, please never repeat that phrase again," Hanna laughs, and the other girls agree.</p><p>"Alright, fine. So long as Matteo tells us about the boy."</p><p>Matteo tells them about the boy. He will regret that decision for the rest of his life, especially when Hanna tells him Jonas has a politics elective with David. Does David even take degree classes? Does he have mandatory modules? Or does he just get more freedom considering his degree is fucking history and film studies? Matteo supposes the politics elective would give him a necessary insight into the world and allow him to make better films, but, like, how is he doing compulsory modules if he's taking two electives? Matteo's timetable is full of compulsory modules and lectures, so he only had room for one elective. He picked history because it was one of his best subjects at school, and the one he scored the highest on when taking his Abi, so he figured he'd enjoy the elective.</p><p>3 lectures in, and oh boy, he was right.</p><p>David sits next to him every time, and it's gotten to the point where he has begun to wait on Matteo outside the lecture hall. The lecturer has a no hot drinks rule for whatever reason, which David hates because he's one of those guys who can't survive a morning without caffeine, and their history elective starts at 8am. Because of this, they stand outside and Matteo waits for David to shotgun a travel mug of strong black coffee before they go inside, usually five minutes before the lecture is due to start. If there's one thing Matteo has learned over the past three weeks, it's that David is nothing if not predictable.</p><p>Matteo wonders if it's creepy to know your friend/potential crush's timetable and routines by heart after only knowing them for three weeks, but he tries not to dwell on it too much. That's for 3am when he begins to overthink every single interaction he has with David. It doesn't help that they've begun hanging out on Thursday nights at the library, because it gives his dumb brain even more material to work with. </p><p>Matteo is nothing if not impulsive, and had gone looking for a book that their history elective professor had suggested the class read at 11pm on Thursday night.</p><p>He finds the book and is going to check it out when David spots him and slides a pair of headphones around his neck, smiling brightly at Matteo.</p><p>"Zippo boy!" he whispers. It was late, but people were still studying. Matteo had learned very quickly never to underestimate a uni student's ability to study at the most ridiculous times of the day.</p><p>"You have to stop calling me that," Matteo whispers, setting the book on the table. David picks it up and turns it around in his hand, much like he had with the lighter, and Matteo finds himself transfixed by David's hands - much like he had when David had examined Matteo's lighter.</p><p>"The Pacific," he reads out loud. "Are you reading this because Professor Lengemann recommended it?"</p><p>"Maybe," he smiles. "I like reading about the wars that didn't actually involve our country."</p><p>"And the wars fought in the Pacific theatre didn't involve Germany?"</p><p>"Not explicitly."</p><p>"And how so, Herr Florenzi?"</p><p>"Well, the Japanese bombed the Americans. That wasn't the Germans' doing. I'm tired of reading about all the bad things people did under the Nazi rule."</p><p>"It's important to remember it, though."</p><p>"Yeah, I know. I'll never forget it. I got enough of the propaganda at home from my grandad. And then my mum, when she was at her sickest."</p><p>David reaches across the table and places his hand over Matteo's, and he swears his heart skips a beat. Kill him now, he thinks, before he does something embarrassing. "I'm sorry to hear." David's eyes soften, and Matteo wants to hug him. Or kiss him. Or something dumb along those lines. But he doesn't. He just smiles and lets David take his hand away.</p><p>"So," David perks up, changing the topic. "How do you feel about aliens? Because I think they're walking among us right now. There are probably aliens at this very university," he theorises, leaning over the table as if he has a massive secret to share.</p><p>They end up discussing this for ages. David maintains that there are definitely aliens already on Earth, and Matteo firmly stands by his belief that aliens do not walk among them, but they definitely exist. Suddenly it's 1am, and their history lecture is in 7 hours.</p><p>"Shit, it's late," David realises, leaning back in his chair. He winces suddenly as if he's pulled a muscle, and manoeuvres himself carefully into what must be a more comfortable position.</p><p>"You okay?" Matteo asks, trying to ignore the sharp stab of anxiety he feels at David being hurt.</p><p>"Uh, yeah. I just need to take my binder off." Matteo relaxes.</p><p>"Oh, okay. Well, I need to sleep anyways, otherwise, I'll look like you first thing in the morning on a Friday,"</p><p>"Hey, I get a full 7 hours, Florenzi." David laughs. He seems almost surprised that Matteo hasn't commented on the binder, even though Matteo has no problems with it. His eyes break contact with Matteo to glance down at his hands, fidgeting with the drawstring on his hoodie. "Just so you know, I'm trans."</p><p>David refuses to make eye contact after saying this, and he wills David to look up so that he knows Matteo understands. He doesn't, so Matteo leans over the table and pokes his arm.</p><p>"Okay. You know I don't care about all of that, right? This changes nothing. I still think you're hot."</p><p>Oh, holy shit. Jesus fucking Christ. This is up there with the dumbest shit Matteo has ever done.</p><p>David bursts out laughing. "I have never had anyone be so upfront about that."</p><p>Matteo buries his head in his hands. "Jesus Christ, I wasn't thinking. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud."</p><p>"Don't apologise. If it helps, I think you're hot too. Okay, I really have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."</p><p>Matteo is completely dumbfounded, and can't find his words. "Yeah, tomorrow. See you." David waves, and then he's gone, leaving Matteo alone at the table. He groans and lets his head thump against the wooden desk. </p><p>He definitely has a crush. And it might be reciprocated.</p><p>It doesn't terrify him as much as it exhilarates him.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. freitag 0930</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Matteo worries. David is cryptic. It's short and sweet but I wasn't sure how to end it. Here it is!</p>
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    <p>Twenty minutes before their 8 am history elective lecture is due to begin and David isn't waiting outside the hall when Matteo arrives, which is strange because this is normally the time that David arrives at. He's normally leaning against the wall with an air of nonchalance that makes him ten times more attractive than Matteo seems to remember, sulking into his pint of black coffee and looking like he'd only slept for five minutes, despite his reassurance on the first week that <em>yes, Matteo, I get a full five hours of sleep.</em>. He lives off-campus, so Matteo assumes his bus is running late and tries to quell the surging anxiety in his gut.</p><p>Two minutes before the lecture is due to begin, and Matteo knows that he'll get locked out if he waits outside any longer. He reluctantly ventures inside and finds his usual seat, but David isn't sitting to his left when he gets there. He isn't in the hall at all. He must have overslept.</p><p>Matteo gives himself the hour it takes to get through the lecture, and then he'll start trying to figure out what's up.</p><p>One hellish hour later, and Matteo pulls out his phone to find three texts from David: the first is a series of numbers and letters that Matteo eventually realises are map coordinates; the second reads "Freitag, 0930" and the third reads "hiding in plain sight".</p><p>He mulls it over as he inputs the coordinates on Google Maps and discovers that the coordinates are the campus library.</p><p>Oh, now he gets it. Their conversation about aliens took place in that same library, where David had been adamant that aliens were hiding in plain sight, so David was telling Matteo to meet him in the library at 0930. He checks his phone, which reads 0917. It'll take him 10 minutes to get there, so he'll be cutting it close, but he'll be there in enough time.</p><p>He types a quick message to David: <em>on my way</em>. </p><p>At 0927, he reaches the library, and he feels like his skin is buzzing with anticipation. His poor brain had tormented him throughout the entire walk to the library - <em> he told you you were hot yesterday, it's a date! </em> on one end, and <em> he's going to play a prank on you </em> on the other end. He isn't sure which outcome he'd rather happen. He has two hours to spare before his study group meets for a coding and programming project he's been assigned, so if whatever this is happens to be less-than-desired, he has an out.</p><p>He approaches the table they sit at every Thursday night, and scratched into the wood is "in the basement". So not as "in plain sight" as Matteo had thought. But he knows the place anyway. He even knows where David will be sitting when he gets there because David is a creature of habit - something Matteo teases him relentlessly for. During one of their nightly visits on Thursday, David had found a hideout in the basement; a corner where beanbags were strewn across the floor, with shelves upon shelves of books lining the rest of the room. The corner was pretty invisible when standing at the bottom of the stairs leading into the basement, and David had deemed it the perfect place to have their deep chats without disturbing other students. Sometimes they'd talk about existential matters, like <em> does time actually exist? </em>, sometimes they'd do work, sometimes they'd read. So yeah, Matteo knows exactly where he is.</p><p>When he rounds the corner and descends the last five steps, he's greeted by the image of David lying on his back on one of the beanbags, head hanging off of the edge and legs propped against the wall, leafing through a worn copy of Othello by Shakespeare. He turns his head towards the noise when Matteo hits the last step, and pushes himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs around. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse from misuse and halting due to this, and he looks slightly flushed, so Matteo assumes he's sick. The sudden urge to touch overwhelms Matteo, and he forces himself to keep his hands in his pockets as he sits down on one of the beanbags next to David.</p><p>"I knew you'd know where I was," he says, turning towards Matteo and flashing him a toothy grin.</p><p>"You made it a little less obvious than I thought you would," Matteo notes.</p><p>"I mean, I scratched the word 'basement' into a desk. I don't know how much more obvious I could be." He keeps a straight face until Matteo pushes his arm and rolls his eyes.</p><p>"Shut up, you said in your text you were 'hiding in plain sight'. I thought you meant literally."</p><p>"Nah, I'd be too hard to find, then. That's why we've never seen aliens before."</p><p>"Shut up about your aliens," Matteo groans, and it's David's turn to laugh. They don't talk for a few minutes after this, leaving Matteo's stomach tied up in knots, but David moves into his default position: upside down on the beanbag, legs propped against the wall, crossed at the ankle. Matteo follows suit, choosing to lie on his back across two beanbags. </p><p>David must get fed up with the silence because he sighs and rasps, "university was supposed to be my fresh start. I chose here because it's far away from my old school, so pretty much no one here knows the old me. They wouldn't know me as the trans kid, they'd just know me as David."</p><p>Matteo nods. He gets it. "I know you as David. David, the film guy. David, the history nerd. David, the septum piercing guy. David, the guy who makes me share my entire family history after asking to borrow my lighter. David, you're known as so much more than you reduce yourself to."</p><p>David shakes his head. "You're just saying that to make feel better-"</p><p>"Maybe so," Matteo interrupts. He has a feeling he knows where David is going with this.</p><p>"But you don't actually believe it."</p><p>"I do."</p><p>David glances down at the book he'd been reading. "I took this out after you talked about Pearl Harbour. I couldn't find the copy you have, but it's close enough. The librarian says this one just talks about the event itself instead of those who fought in the war sparked by Pearl Harbour."</p><p>Matteo turns to David with what he can only imagine is a shit-eating grin. "I mean, Pearl Harbour didn't spark the war as a whole. Just the Pacific theatre of war. You'd think a history nerd like you would know his shit."</p><p>David scoffs and tries to swat Matteo with the aforementioned book, but misses his chance, as Matteo raises a pillow sitting next to him and smacks David with it, throwing him off. They lie on the beanbags again, staring a the ceiling, and Matteo begins to ponder what it would be like if everyone could live on Mars. What would their main food source be? Where would their water come from? What about electricity and gas? Just as he turns to tell David this and find out his thoughts, he's jostled out of his thoughts by a hand wrapping around his wrist. His heart jumps, and he turns to face David - wait, was he always this close?</p><p>"Can I tell you something?" Matteo finds himself asking. <em> Oh good lord, here we go. </em></p><p>"I don't know, can you?"</p><p>"I suppose not. I've already spilled my family secrets to you. I don't think I need to tell you anything else. Matteo smiles, but it stutters slightly when David intertwines their fingers.</p><p>"If you don't tell me, I'll kill you."</p><p>"You wouldn't."</p><p>"Try me."</p><p>Matteo sighs. <em> No way out now, Florenzi, </em> he thinks. "I like you."</p><p>David's smile grows wider. "I knew it. You <em> like </em> like me."</p><p>"Fuck off," Matteo pushes himself to sit up, and David protests as he's pulled up with him. Matteo forgot David was holding his-- <em> oh holy shit, </em> David is holding his hand.</p><p>"This couldn't get any gayer," he remarks, making David laugh so hard he descends into a coughing fit. Once he recovers, he turns to Matteo once more.</p><p>"I'd kiss you if I wasn't sick."</p><p>"Well, I'm guessing you like me too."</p><p>"No fucking shit, I've been trying to tell you for ages!"</p>
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